“I didn’t know you knew how to cook.” I fold my arms across my chest and lean a hip against the counter. She looks beautiful right now in her jeans and long-sleeve blouse. There’s a row of tiny buttons that secure the high neck of her shirt. I reach out and thumb one at the base of her throat.
She jolts and flinches away. My hand drops to my side. I keep forgetting she doesn’t want me to touch her, but it’s getting harder and harder to restrain myself. She’s my wife, for fuck’s sake. Her left hand comes up to rub the side of her cheek and my eyes fall to her bare right finger.
“Why don’t you wear your engagement ring?”
She shrugs and lowers her hand to the pan, shaking it even though it’s empty. “It looks expensive. I don’t want to lose it.”
It sounds like a lie. Perhaps she doesn’t like it. It’s not the usual diamond in a platinum setting. Instead, it’s a rough cut ruby in an old gold setting with small diamonds set on either side. The ring had been a gift from a soldier to his promised bride. He went off to war and was presumed dead. His fiancée believed that he still lived and for decades refused to take off the ring, despite numerous offers of marriage. She held on to the belief that he would return to her and when he did, after thirty years, she was rewarded. It was a symbol of undying devotion. When I gave it to Orchard, I told her that I’d wait and that is what I meant.
No matter how long it took for her to love me.
12
Orchard
He thinks I flinched away from his touch because I didn't want it. In reality, nothing could be further from the truth. I jerked back because I was surprised by how much I did want it. The urge to lean into his touch had almost been unbearable, but I couldn’t let myself be so carefree with him. I’m not ready to let my guard down. I’m not quite sure what his intentions are. Even if they do seem genuine.
“You’re really invested in this grocery store idea of mine.” I flip the steak over. I love to cook. It isn't something I get to do often, considering he has our mandatory dinner prepared every night for us. I wonder if it ever occurred to him to ask me what I like. I used to cook a lot when I lived with my father.
I had spent so many nights alone that it gave me time to teach myself. I still remember being a young girl and sitting at the table alone. I’d set it as though a family was going to join me. It was my way of playing house even though I was the only one to attend. I was way too young to have been left alone to begin with, let alone to be cooking in a kitchen.
“We’re married,” he reminds me. It’s something he never lets me forget.
“It’s only an idea. I’m not sure if I’m going to do it,” I admit. “It started off as a joke.” I put a lid on the steak as I start to prepare the asparagus to put into the oven.
“A joke?” He grabs a wine glass, pouring me a drink.
“Thanks.” I take it from his hand and take a sip, not wanting to tell him how this all started. “My favorite.” I set the glass back down.
“I know.” He pours himself a glass. “I bought it.” I finish seasoning the asparagus as Heath removes the baking sheet from me and slides it into the oven. I have to admit that he looks damn sexy in the kitchen. It’s the first time I’ve seen him do anything like this. Usually the house staff does everything for him.
“You mean you put it on the grocery list,” I correct. Anything we need goes on to the list. If I had to guess, I’d say that today was the first time Heath has ever been in a grocery store.
“No, I mean I bought the winery.” I almost choke on my next sip of wine. He’s next to me in a second, one of his hands going to my back while the other goes to my stomach.
“Are you okay?” Concern shows in his face. I start laughing.
“I’m fine.” I laugh again. “I’m guessing you weren't joking about the wine?” It’s so ridiculous that he would buy a whole winery because I enjoyed a wine that it’s funny. Yet, for some reason it doesn’t really surprise me.
“No I wasn't joking. You never like any of the wines we have with dinner. When I noticed you enjoying this one, I knew it was worth buying.” I stare up at him. He’s not joking. The fact that he bought it because of me does something funny to my insides.
“You hold my opinion in such high regard?”
“You’re smart and hard working. I remember how you ran your father’s shipyard.” Every time my father is brought up I can see the anger in Heath. I don’t know why he despises the man so much but he tries to hide it from me. I don't care for him either. “When you love something you love it. When you put your mind to something there is no stopping you. You're a force of nature.” His hands press more into me.
My eyes flick from his straight down to his mouth. I lick my lips. Yesterday’s kiss still lingers there. I can still taste him. Anytime my mind had a free moment it drifted back to the kiss. I find myself tilting my head back.
This moment feels real. As though we are a happily married couple in the kitchen making dinner together. He leans down to kiss me, but a popping sound from the steak has me jerking back. I grab the handle, pulling it off the stove.
“Can you set the table?” I ask, trying to hide the fact that my face has warmed. I’d silently asked for a kiss and he had almost given it to me.
“Sure.” He stands there for a moment watching me.
“The plates are in there.” I point to one of the cabinets. He picks up a piece of paper from off the counter. I walk over, setting the pan on the counter. I look down to see what he’s reading. I notice it’s a sheet that tells him how to cook dinner. I bite my lip so I don’t laugh because as mad as he makes me, it’s adorable that he’s trying to make me dinner.
He builds empires but he has a cheat sheet to make dinner. I take the paper from his hands.
“I think you can set a table without instructions.”
“They aren't even on there.” He almost sounds annoyed.
“There was no way that Grant could have predicted that I was going to ask you to set the table.”
“He predicts most things.” This time I can’t hold my laugh in.
“Are you finished?” he asks, his own lips twitching into a smile.
“Set the table,” I order him.
“As my wife wishes.” I plate our food while he does his best to do as I asked before taking our plates into the dining room.
“Maybe we could watch tv while we eat?” I suggest. Heath looks down at his watch.
“Culinary Masters doesn't start for thirty minutes and I already set the table as you requested.” He motions to the table. “How about we eat and then we can watch it while we have dessert?” he suggests. How does he know what I watch?
“Deal,” I agree as he pulls my chair out for me. I sit, digging into our food. All of this feels way too normal. I feel relaxed and comfortable around him for the first time. More so when we sit down on the sofa and I pass out with my head in his lap somehow.
13
Heath